Date: Thu, 2 May 2019 18:12:41 +0100 From: J. Forrester Subject: Do As You're Told - Chapter Thirty Two Do As You're Told Chapter Thirty-Two: The Downfall of Micah Dinberg If you need permission to read this story (from a master, husband, partner, lodger, boss, next door neighbour, gardener) please obtain it first. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional. This story is exclusively for entertainment purposes so please enjoy in safe and legal manner. WEDNESDAY 3RD APRIL 2019 (continued.) Adam was exhausted. After talking to Arthur about his ordeal he had returned to a life where he still had to eat and sleep; drive home from school and do homework and tidy his room and... "I was raped." Adam was exhausted. Arthur had kept him company by seeing him safely home that day and later laying down beside him in bed to offer comfort and solace until he drifted off to sleep. To everyone else, Thursday would be the day after Adam and Arthur wore their pants to school; to Adam it would be the day after he decided to do something about his life. Arthur was his companion through it all and Adam didn't know what he'd do without him. Actually, Adam didn't know what to do even with Arthur around. Adam still had to do something about Micah and Mr Anonymous; deep down he knew what he had to do but he was scared. It was after ten at night and Adam lay in bed with Arthur beside him. It was nice having someone warm beside him, someone to make him feel safe. Adam was drifting off when he heard Arthur phone announce a message and he slipped out of bed to respond. Adam was exhausted. He hadn't even undressed before lying down; he was wearing shorts and a loose vest that he had put on after school and knew he' wear them into sleep if only because the effort of changing was too much. "I need to go home, Adam," said Arthur from the door. Adam opened his eyes - he was facing away from his bedroom door but the room was dark and illuminated only by light from the hall, most of which was blocked by Arthur's body. "Ok," Adam said. He wanted ask Arthur to stay. Adam liked feeling safe with someone beside him but he didn't want to be a burden, he was trying not to be selfish; was it so bad that he didn't want to be alone? "Don't be mad at me, ok?" Arthur whispered. Adam wanted to turn and reassure his best friend but it was too much effort to turn and he was so tired that he lay in the dark until the door closed. The room filled with inky darkness, now slivers of light could be seen through the gap in his curtains and... Someone was moving about his room. Adam turned, fear-filled, afraid he'd fallen asleep and that a nightmare version of Micah would seize him. However, in the wane light he recognised Robin. "Don't be mad at him, ok?" said Robin. "I'm not mad," Adam replied - he actually felt relieved to have Robin for company. Adam lay on his back and watched Robin shuffle unsurely. "He asked me to come over," Robin explained. Adam realised the text Arthur had received must have been when Robin had arrived outside his home. Arthur had let Robin in without alerting Adam (in case he objected) or his dad. "Come over here then," Adam said quietly. Adam shuffled over and pulled back his duvet so Robin could lie down. Robin hovered uncertainly before sitting on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes and slip off his jacket, under which was a t-shirt. He left his chinos on - he didn't want to be presumptuous nor seem solicitous - and lay down. They lay shoulder to shoulder - staring up at the ceiling and feeling a little awkward. "What did he tell you?" Adam asked. "That you needed a friend," Robin replied. Adam turned his head and said; "We didn't make a very good job of trying to be friends. Did we?" Adam sounded wistful and full of regret. Months ago, the last time they'd been together at The Fourth when Adam finally knew Robin was Teen Titan, the plan had been to be friends. Adam's help to escape his dad had been invaluable to Robin but they hadn't moved - no steps forward and no steps back. "I wasn't ready to be with you when you asked, Adam. Maybe we weren't ready to be friends either," Robin pondered. At the time, there had been too much between them for them to be more than friends. To many years of bullying and too few weeks of discovering who Adam really was. "I really wanted to prove that I wasn't the boy who bullied you anymore," Adam commented. "You did. You saved me from my dad, remember? I couldn't have done it without you," Robin said. "You did all the hard work without me, Robin," said Adam; "You survived it all without me." "You survived too, Adam," Robin replied. "And now I need you. Just to be there for me," Adam responded sullenly. "I'm not asking for anything more than that." "What happened, Adam? Why did you push me away?" Robin asked. He wasn't picking a fight about Adam's coping skills, not criticising him for his hurtful rejection. Adam didn't plan to say sorry for what he had said about Robin's life, his decisions, his advice... he knew Robin would understand once he said: "I was raped by a boy at school." Now Robin turned his head too, picking out Adam's features in the gloom. Adam looked sad, young and more vulnerable than Robin had ever seen. Adam meanwhile saw naive incomprehension on Robin's face. "Why... why would someone do that?" Robin asked softly. "Don't know," Adam mumbled. Robin rolled onto his side and put his hand on Adam's cheek, Adam rolled to face Robin and put his own hand over Robin's. "I'm sorry," said Adam with his head bowed. What was he saying sorry for? Robin wasn't sure - for the things he'd said? For what had happened to himself? "Me too," Robin replied. "Will you stay with me?" asked Adam. "If you want me to," Robin replied. "Make yourself more comfortable, will you?" Adam replied. Adam turned away and Robin was left to contemplate what he'd meant. Robin settled on taking off his chinos and sleeping in his hipster boxers and t-shirt. He lay on his side and watched Adam's back; once Adam was sure Robin was settled, he looked over his shoulder and reached for Robin's arm. Adam pulled Robin's arm over him and entwined his fingers with Robin's hand. Robin shuffled closer, spooning into Adam: intimate but not sexual. Adam liked the warmth of Robin's body, it was comfortable. His vest exposed most of his back and he could feel Robin's arm against his bare skin. Robin felt tears on his cheeks - was Adam crying too? His heart broke for Adam, no wonder he'd reacted the way he did. "Did it hurt?" Robin asked, though he was afraid of the answer. Adam hadn't expected the question and there were few questions he'd rather avoid more than that one. So he said nothing. "Are you ok?" Robin asked after a minute of silence. Another question Adam wouldn't want to answer. He answered the less disagreeable of the two. "It always hurts," Adam replied. Adam could feel Robin's breath on the back of his neck. Robin shifted to make himself more comfortable, their bare legs resting against each other - warm and cosy. "What are you going to do?" Robin asked. "What do you think I should do?" Adam asked. "Whoever did this can't be allowed to get away with it. You've been blackmailed and now worse... much worse. Maybe... maybe they should go to jail now?" Robin suggested. Adam smiled in the dark. "I thought about that. Going to the police," Adam admitted but he was glad he didn't have to look Robin in the eye as he expanded on this. "Do you know what I'd have to go through? The physical examination and swabs taken; did he tear me when he pushed in, did he leave any semen that I've not already washed away? The pictures and video... they'd be used as evidence too. A jury would be shown what happened to me. The questions: why didn't you tell, are you sure you didn't consent, did you say no, why didn't you resist, you looked like you enjoyed it, did you orgasm? What if I'm not believed? What if I go through all that and I'm not believed? Or there's not enough evidence? What if it turns into my word against his? And I still don't know who planned it all? What if... the boy doesn't give up his master?" Adam worked methodically through his concerns and misgivings and left Robin with good insight into how helpless Adam had been made to feel. The trauma of getting over a trauma, was it any wonder people stayed silent? "I can see why that might be a problem," Robin whispered into Adam's back. "Yea," Adam agreed. "So what are you going to do?" Robin asked again. "I'm going to tell my dad," said Adam; "I'm just..." "Worried what he'll say?" suggested Robin. "...Scared what he'll do," Adam concluded. "Why?" Robin asked. "Because he is dangerous." Shit! Robin knew Adam's dad as the man who had given him a job. Mr Mansouri - Mr Aziz as he preferred to be known - ran The Fourth nightclub. A predominantly gay scene club with a behind the scenes strip club and parlours for men to get to know each other. Robin really had gotten to know Adam in the parlour; they had grown closer until they grew apart. When Robin needed to escape his father, it was Aziz Mansouri who had helped him - he was a benevolent benefactor and a man who had helped and protected Robin. He had asked for nothing in return. There was fear in Adam's voice as he admitted his solution to his own problems. It wasn't that Robin doubted Mr Aziz would deal with it - that was perhaps the problem. Robin knew little about the world but a man who runs a club like The Fourth, who has body guards and who can frighten a man like Robin's dad... what kind of man is that? Robin wanted to ask more but Adam had drifted to sleep in his arms. Robin listened to the soft breathing that was almost contented. Adam was warm; his skin soft and in the dark Adam seem peaceful. Robin had felt the worry writ all over Adam's body which was now relaxed. But it wasn't over yet. THURSDAY 4TH APRIL 2019 Robin stirred early - or late, but that's a semantic argument - found Adam still snuggled into him. It was comforting in a way and he hoped Adam had been comforted by his presence. Robin became aware of his penis pressed against Adam's buttocks. They both had underwear on and Robin wasn't hard nor had he contemplated any sexual scenarios but he felt guilty anyway. His flaccid penis against the mounds of Adam's buttocks; how would Adam feel about that now? Was intimacy something Adam would struggle with? Adam had a boyfriend. Robin had broken up with his boyfriend. Robin sat up and swung his legs out of bed - too many thoughts were going around the merry-go-round. Adam rolled over, stirred from sleep. Robin thought he looked beautiful. "I didn't bring my school stuff. I should head home for it," Robin said. Adam looked at the clock - 05:07. "Unless you want me, or need me, to stay?" Robin asked sincerely. Adam reached over and held Robin's hand. "That's ok. I need to talk to my dad alone," Adam replied. "I'll be there for you Adam. Just tell me what you need," said Robin. "I just need you to... be you..." Adam replied. Robin got dressed and crept to the door, he wasn't sure if Adam had gone back to sleep or was pretending but he crept back and kissed Adam's cheek before sneaking out of his house. Adam hadn't been asleep and the tender gesture had made him smile before rolling contently over and drifting off to sleep again. When his alarm sounded he returned to a life where he still had to shower and eat and brush his teeth; tie his tie and check Facebook and... "Dad," Adam said. "Hmm?" his dad replied distractedly. Was now a good time? Right before school? Would there ever be a good time in which to tell his dad about what had happened to him; the blackmail, the photos and the videos; Gymno-Mania and Boy Appétit; the oral sex and all the other sex. "I need to tell you something," Adam said. His dad looked up sharply because Adam hadn't been able to say it without his voice cracking. "Adam? What? What is it?" he asked with the concern of a loving father. "I don't know what to do..." FRIDAY 5TH APRIL 2019 Aziz Mansouri sat in the back seat of his Jaguar. Mr Little was in the front passenger seat and Mr Big was driving. Both men had been working for Aziz for over a decade, they were good men - frighteningly large and muscled and they looked like the assassin from the Hitman videogames. Enforcers was one of the words Aziz preferred and the pair were very effective at ensuring compliance with rules inside The Fourth and counteracting violence or intimidation when anyone came knocking at his door. One does not run a business like his without men like Mr Little and Mr Big. Adam had cried. Aziz found himself counting to ten. Slowly. His palm had semi-circular grooves - the skin not quite broken - from where his fingernails had dug in. Adam had cried as he admitted what had happened to him over the past six months. Aziz had calmed his son down and reassured him and forgiven him though the boy had done nothing wrong. One. Two. Three... Adam had cried and it broke Aziz's heart. Mr Aziz took a day to decide how to deal with Micah and then to prepare. What a difference a day makes, twenty-four little hours; Aziz' temperament had not changed in the day since Adam had told him everything. It was hard to remain calm but Aziz knew he had to be - Micah's life was in danger if he didn't. Aziz watched as a few students streamed out of the school - all the rest were headed to the last class of the day. Aziz watched the boy called Micah Dinberg strut across the courtyard and head for the school gates. He didn't like the boy - the arrogance, the unjustifiable swagger... "Micah?" Micah was walking along the road outside the school, skipping his final classes of the day, which were also the final classes before the Easter holidays started. Micah had a habit of skipping out at lunchtime before holidays started; his peers and teachers would have been more surprised to see him. The man who had said his name was very tall and very broad; his chest was solid muscle and he looked like he could bench press a bus. His head was shaved to blonde stubble and he was very handsome. "Yea?" Micah replied with a flirtatious grin - because you never knew when you might be lucky. "Micah Dinberg?" he asked harshly. Now Micah blanched; "Wrong guy." Micah was about to turn away and walk on but the big guy put out his hand and placed his pinkie against Micah's shoulder. His pinkie had more strength than Micah's entire body. The big guy had blue eyes. Micah didn't dare move. Eyes as blue as the sea; eyes as cold as ice. What could this be about? "Mr Mansouri would like to have a word," the man enunciated so softly that Micah nearly wet himself. Shit! Adam's dad! Micah was escorted into the back seat of the car where Aziz was sitting alone on the opposite side. The middle seat remained between them as Micah got in and as soon as the big guy got into the front passenger seat, the car pulled away. "You already met Mr Little," said Adam's dad in a dry tone of voice; "Do you want to meet Mr Big?" "No, I'm fine," Micah replied. "They're my... bodyguards. I run a business that men tried to burn down twelve years ago. People don't get on the wrong side of me anymore," Aziz explained. There was silence as the car moved farther away from the school. "You know who I am, yes?" Aziz asked. Micah nodded. One. Two. Three... "My friends and allies call me Mr Aziz. You can call me Mr Mansouri. Do you understand why you're here?" Mr Mansouri had to count to ten while he spoke. "Are you going to beat the shit out of me?" Micah asked because he was more afraid of not knowing. Mr Mansouri turned his head slowly - very slowly - to look at Micah. Micah had never seen such a calm and expressionless face look so fucking terrifying before. "I promised Adam no," Mr Mansouri replied; "He also made me promise not kill you." Micah whimpered and tears sprang to his eyes. "I promised him I wouldn't burn your fucking house down or..." Mr Mansouri took a deep breath. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six... "We're going to stop outside The Foundries in a minute," said Mr Mansouri. The Foundries were a group of former warehouses that had been converted into nightclubs, among them The Fourth. "It's close to the footbridge over the River Coalwater. I believe you live on the other side?" Mr Mansouri asked conversationally. "Yes," Micah answered uncertainly. "Once you've stripped you can go home," Mr Mansouri said. "Naked?" Micah asked. "That is usually what strip means," Mr Mansouri replied sarcastically without looking at him. "It's broad daylight," Micah protested, his fear temporarily forgotten; "The footbridge is right opposite the Coalwater Bridge. All those cars... Someone will see me." Both bridges were just over a kilometre long. He couldn't go naked across the footbridge in the middle of the day with all those cars passing and who knew how many people on the footbridge itself. What was wrong with this man? Was this little prick really complaining about streaking after everything he'd done to Adam? One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight... "Tell someone who gives a fuck," Mr Mansouri replied carefully. To emphasise his point, Mr Little looked over his shoulder from the front seat and smiled placidly. The car came to a stop and Micah could see they were parked in the middle of the empty car park outside the retired warehouses that had been converted into nightclubs. "Given the things you've made my son do, this should be a piece of cake," Mr Mansouri said with great care as he stared straight ahead. Micah was still wearing his school uniform - his blazer open thanks to the mild weather - but the thought of taking it all off and going home naked terrified him. "You can't make me do this," Micah said. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. "I don't keep every promise I make, Micah. Not even the promises I make to Adam. Strip," Mr Mansouri said - still not looking at the teenager. Micah stared at the driver's seat in front of him as he considered his options. He didn't want to look at Mr Mansouri again so he looked at the back of the two hard men in front. Micah knew well enough to be scared and really had no choice but to obey. As Micah slipped off his school blazer he sneered and snorted derisively. "It's ironic. Acting like you're so offended by what I've done. Acting like you're better than me," Micah complained bitterly; "Making this my punishment because poor little Adam..." Mr Mansouri's hand flashed out, grabbed the boys dangling school tie and yanked him forward. Micah's face collided with the headrest of the driver's seat and the boy bounced back - nose unbroken but stunned tears springing in his eyes. Mr Mansouri did not let go of the tie, instead he pulled the boy over the middle seat between them so Micah was off balance and toppled over. Mr Mansouri wrapped the tie around his fist, brining it closer to the boy's throat. When he spoke, Mr Mansouri's voice was very quiet and measured with patience but sinister with threat. His words were spoken - no, growled - through gritted teeth: "You. Raped. My. Son." Micah was terrified again. "Believe me when I tell you; I'm being very fucking lenient," Mr Aziz spat at the imbecile. Mr Mansouri released the schoolboy and sat back with his arms folded and breathed very slowly. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. "Get on with it," Mr Mansouri snarled. Micah pulled off his tie and slipped off his blazer. He looked over to see if Mr Mansouri was watching but he wasn't and the men in front weren't recording his humiliation either. Micah unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt, took off his shoes and dropped his trousers and then removed the shirt. As he undressed the word "rape" reverberated around Micah's head. The echo seemed to go on forever - haunting and taunting him. Micah had never ever thought of what he'd done to Adam in such terms; being told he had raped someone was a punch in the face harder than any physical blow. He was afraid of that word, afraid of the kind of person it made him. Had he really done that? Had he raped Adam? How could he not know? Micah felt stupid sitting in the back of the car in nothing but his boxers and socks. "Take them off. Take it all off," Mr Mansouri said and his tone no longer restrained its fury. Mr Mansouri felt sick sitting next to the boy. Micah pulled off his socks and then, struggling not to cry, lifted his ass to remove his underwear. His clothes were scattered across the seat and dropped into the footwell in front of him. Micah felt very silly indeed, sitting naked in the car and covering his flaccid penis while hoping his bare ass didn't squeak against the leather seats. "What you did to Adam..." Mr Mansouri voice shook and it wasn't just anger now, it was sorrow; "...was unacceptable." "I'm sorry, ok?" Micah replied weakly. Mr Mansouri looked at him with a growling expression; "Oh I don't care." He didn't want to listen to the pitiful boy apologise. Besides, Mr Mansouri had been busy in Micah's house since Adam had told him everything. "You weren't coerced, were you?" Mr Mansouri said. Micah cast his eyes down and shook his head. "Everything Adam said about you told me you did this because you were a cruel and spiteful child," Mr Mansouri continued. Micah had the good grace to look ashamed. "I wanted to go to the police. I've been to your house, I've seen all the videos and the pictures and your pathetic, filthy Nifty stories boasting about fucking boys against their will," Mr Mansouri snarled. "And Adam himself... even though he's washed and tried to rid himself of your muck... he's evidence too." "Then why are you doing this?" Micah asked, stalling the moment when he'd have to run home in the buff. "Adam said no. He didn't want to go through all that, to be degraded for justice. And then he said..." Mr Mansouri looked at Micah was a mixture of disgust and disappointment; "Unbelievably, he said he didn't want to ruin your life. Prison. Sexual offenders register. The stain that would stop you getting a job for-fucking-ever..." "Why... why would he care about that?" Micah asked with total incomprehension. Micah could barely suppress his fear - not of being naked but of being held accountable. Undressing was Mr Mansouri's way of holding him responsible and Micah knew when he came to think about it he would have to hold himself responsible too; that scared him almost as much as the man who wanted to kill him. Mr Mansouri found tears swim in his eyes: "Because he's a good boy. He didn't deserve what you did to him." The conversation was over and Micah was given instructions from the front of the car as Mr little cleared his throat and turned around. "Put your shoes on and get out," Mr Little said after a brief silence. "Don't worry about your clothes, your phone or your bag, we'll swing by your house and drop them off at your back door." At least Micah could let himself into his house once he got home. "We've deleted the files from your computer. And from your cloud. And from the USB you hid inside Richard Siken's War of the Foxes. And by the time you get home, they'll be gone from your phone," Mr Little spoke politely and efficiently. "If you have any other copies of anything you've done to Adam, I'd advise you destroy them. If they were to accidentally leak online or at school... Well, you wouldn't enjoy our next conversation as much as you have this one." Mr Large turned to Mr Little and added; "Chainsaws are so cheap nowadays." Mr Little smiled affectionately at his colleague. Micah didn't know if those men would serious harm him - with chainsaws - but he wasn't going to take the risk. He slipped his shoes on and considered himself dismissed. Micah opened the car door and put one foot outside - there was a cool breeze against his bare skin. His leg sent messages to the rest of his body to remind him he was bare naked. The wind caressed his ankle and wound up to his thigh. "One more thing," Mr Mansouri said. Aziz had recomposed himself, his voice flat and his eyes dry. "You're a pathetic puppet. Those aren't Adam's words, they're mine," Mr Aziz said cruelly. "But you weren't just some witless stooge. You were an accessory and an accomplice to someone. Adam calls whoever is behind all this, Mr Anonymous. I'm willing to bet you call him something else. I want to figure out why that bastard hurt my son so you're going to tell me... What is his name?" Micah swallowed hard and replied; "His name is Mr Jones. Rhys Jones, he's a teacher..." "I know who he is," Mr Aziz cut him off and his expression changed dramatically. Micah was briefly distracted - fascinated - by the change in expression, it was as if Mr Aziz suddenly realised why all this was happening. Micah was given no opportunity to contemplate further - he stepped out into the April sunshine and Mr Mansouri pulled the door shut. "So..." said Mr Aziz to no-one in particular; "That's why." Micah ran for the edge of the warehouses and paused to peek around the side - the coast was clear. He had clamped his hands over his penis and found himself waddling embarrassingly as he ran. His naked butt was visible from the rear - should he use one hand to cover his arse? Micah looked over his shoulder but there was no-one around to see his brown ass running as fast as it could. Micah reached the footbridge and looked across to the road bridge opposite. It was busy - lots of cars headed to lunch or collect kids from school and commuters who finished work early returning home to start making tea. How far down the bridge could he see? Would he be able to tell if someone was coming towards him from the opposite direction? He didn't have any other option anyway, but Micah worried about joggers, cyclists and dog-walkers as he sprinted. A few cars honked - with his arms pumping his penis was on display. This sucked. Micah wasn't sure if he felt thrilled by the experience or not. The threats - which he took wholly seriously - when separated from the exposure changed Micah's thoughts about the scenario. Had Micah not done the things he'd done to Adam because they excited him? Not just to see Adam naked but because he could imagine himself in Adam's place. The things he'd done. Guilt. You. Raped. My. Son. Micah became breathless and slowed to a jog - he didn't want to have to walk naked across the bridge but he was not a natural athlete. His feet felt warm and moist inside his school shoes. On his right, the footbridge widened out to accommodate a small shelter and a bike stand. Once, a few years ago, Micah had gone to the bus shelter in the middle of the night. It was a night not unlike the one he had made Adam walk naked... More guilt. ...That night, a few years ago; Micah had hidden in the shelter. It was totally quiet and he had taken off his clothes to sit naked, hard and excited. Exposure and exhibition had always excited him and he'd gripped his cock and jerked it in the night. With his back to the traffic but hidden by the shelter, he had been exposed but safe from view. He had cum so hard that night and the memory returned to him now. The memory mixed with the memory of Adam facing the traffic in the middle of the night just a few weeks ago. (Much too late) Even more guilt. Micah's imagination held him beside Adam, jerking together in broad daylight. They were facing the traffic and racing to see who could cum first. There was companionable competition in the race (t was a game) and when they did cum, they came together - shooting into the river below, aiming for the cars opposite them but not having the range to reach them. Except it hadn't happened like that. Adam and Micah were not companions and it had never been a game. Adam had implored him many times and Micah had said he didn't care. Did he care about the hurt he'd caused? Too much guilt. Micah had been walking towards the shelter that was mostly used by teens to smoke in - apart from Micah who jerked off in it in the middle of the night. Micah was upon it before he heard the voices. Before he heard the laughing. There was a group of five boys in school uniform - more or less. Two of the boys still had their ties on, two had taken their blazers off and rolled up their shirtsleeves; they all looked around sixteen or seventeen and Micah didn't recognise them so at least they weren't from his own school. "The fuck, what happened to you?" giggled the smallest of the boys missing out the determiner at the start of the sentence. "All over tan," sniggered a dark haired boy with glasses. "Mmm, mocha," said a cute button-nosed black lad. "Now you've made it weird." "You cold?" laughed the bleached blonde. "Does that little thing get any bigger?" Before Micah could react, one of the boys had taken a picture on his phone. Micah blushed and sprinted away. Micah's dick had been flaccid and shrivelled when the picture had been taken. He hadn't been thinking about whether he would be rated on penis size when this thing started. The footbridge was just over a kilometre, if his average speed was twelve kilometres per hour, it should take five minutes to reach the end. Micah did the mental maths while he ran. The cars on the other size honked again and there was the occasional shout that Micah assumed was a lewd comment. If his position was reversed, he'd have been lewd. Micah occasionally held his penis and testicles but it was easier to run with both hands free. He was sweating now and released a hand to rub his brow; he could smell his own balls as he rubbed his nose. Micah ignored the attention of commuters - how many? - and before the end of the bridge, darted to the right to climb an embankment. If he went to the very end of the bridge, Micah would have to follow the roads and pavements of a busy residential area; by climbing the embankment he could cut through an allotment, stay to the alleys that ran between the backs of properties on opposite streets and the only road he'd really be exposed on was... Micah thought again about when he'd made Adam walk the streets naked at night. How long had they walked, half an hour? An hour? How many people had seen Adam that night? At the time it didn't seem to matter. ...Micah reached his own street. He was panting but raced to his own house and ran down the driveway. He hadn't noticed any of his neighbours in their gardens or on the street, he hoped he hadn't been seen. Mr Mansouri and his entourage had said they'd leave his things at home for him: his bag, his clothes, his mobile phone and his house keys. There was no sign they had been there on the front step so he went around the back. Micah was relieved to find everything at the back door; he let himself in, relieved to be an only child and that his parents both finished work after he finished school. Micah closed the back door with great relief. He dumped his school uniform in the laundry basket and went upstairs to his bedroom. Micah found his laptop open and on it there was an image of himself naked. The picture was less than fifteen minutes old - taken by the schoolboys on the bridge. Micah was naked in it, his flaccid penis unimpressively exposed. He looked at it with disgust. Those boys had been waiting for him - waiting to take that picture which was send it to Mr Mansouri. Why? To set an example? Micah should perhaps be glad the boys had been tipped off, planted, instructed to take the photo and let him go - what else might they have done if they had not been there solely at Mr Mansouri request? What would Micah have done if he came upon a naked boy? Micah shuddered to think about his own reprehensible behaviour to date. Micah choked back tears - who might see this picture? Who would Mr Aziz show it to? No-one if he stayed away from Adam? How was he to know, what was he to do? Micah's phone chimed - it had been planted next to his laptop - and he checked it. He didn't recognise the number but it had been saved in his phone under the name Downfall. Downfall: [Good, you made it home safe.] Were they watching him? Had they really watched to make sure he was safe? Downfall: [Re. The picture on your computer... I trust we have an understanding?] Micah: [Yes.] Downfall: [We already know how suffering as inspired you. Perhaps reading about the suffering of victims will inspire you too.] Downfall: [We have left you some sources that might educate you: Rape & Sexual Violence Project, Rape Crisis Scotland... perhaps you can begin to understand why what you did was wrong, Micah. If you need help to do that, to learn from your mistake, contact this number again.] Downfall: [Farewell. For your sake, good luck.] That was the final message. Learn about rape? Get help? He realised how perfect the name Downfall was because it felt like a long way down from here. Why would they want to help him? Why give him advice after what he did? Why did they care? Guilt. Shame. Remorse. Micah cried. So he fucking should. EARLIER/ MEANWHILE Robin found Adam during the first break of the school day. Robin felt awkward around Adam; despite sharing his bed and providing comfort, they hadn't actually fixed the rift between them. Robin had been surprised to see Adam at school yesterday - knowing that that morning he was telling his dad everything. Arthur had loomed like a barrier between Adam and the world yesterday and Robin had stayed away but Robin couldn't carry on pining forever. Moreover, he wanted to play a bigger part in Adam's life, now more than ever. Adam and Arthur were sitting together and with some cajoling Cameron tagged along to spend the recess together. Robin was reluctant to tell Cameron any of the details of why they should suddenly socialise with Adam but he didn't have to. "Is it important to you?" whispered Cameron while Arthur and Adam discussed plans for later. "Very," answered Robin. "Ok." They all seemed to stop talking at the same time and used the pause to tuck into breakfast bars, crisps and chocolate. "Doesn't Ben usually hang out with you guys?" asked Arthur. "Umm..." stalled Robin - he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up yet. "He's working on the underground yearbook. Apparently two numpties in their underwear are making a late addition to the final product," Cameron revealed as he unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a bite. Arthur laughed, cast a look at Adam to check it was ok to find it funny - given he had been an unwilling participant - and then kept laughing. Robin gave Cameron a sideways look - glad his friend had covered for him but wondering if he knew the real reason Ben had made himself scarce for two days. "Ok, one; we're not numpties," said Arthur. "And two, you're eating your Milky Way wrong." Cameron rolled his eyes but his mouth was too full to stop Robin getting involved in the discussion. "Yes, exactly," Robin said to Arthur. "You're supposed to bite off all the chocolate first and then eat the fluffy nougat inside." Adam found himself smiling across the other three boys, feeling a flutter inside - the daft conversation, the giggles, the warm feeling - it had been a long time since he felt friendship like this. It was quite unexpected to feel normal again, to be able to feel happy; it almost made him tear up. "Correct," Arthur agreed with Robin. "You guys must be mental," Cameron replied with mock-seriousness. "Adam, help me out here?" Adam looked caught between a rock and a hard place; "I prefer a Bounty." The boys laughed, Cameron scoffed good naturedly and then muttered; "I was wrong, he's the one who's mental." Ten minutes later and things had not improved. "Ok, would you rather have a nipple sized penis or penis sized nipples?" asked Arthur. The other three boys couldn't stop laughing. "Flaccid or hard?" asked Adam. "Usual rules apply: cold makes the nips hard and the willy small," Arthur replied. Adam nudged Robin and said; "Eight inch nipples." He clamped his hand over his mouth as he realised he's said it out loud but any opportunity for commentary was lost as the bell rang to signal the end of break time. "Come to lunch with us," Robin said to Ben as they packed up to head to the cafeteria. Ben seemed surprised by the overture - they had been pleasant since breaking up two days ago but Ben hadn't expected to be welcome at the table (so to speak). "Are you sure?" Ben asked. "We shouldn't let breaking up come between us," Robin said. Ben recognised his own words and ginned. Robin, Cameron, Ben, Adam and Arthur found a table together; the noise in the cafeteria was like an Edinburgh Derby game but without alcohol-fuelled hooliganism. There was still hooliganism, it just wasn't alcohol-fuelled. The silly "would you rather" continued: "Would you rather, ride a magic carpet or drive a flying car?" "Convertible?" "No." "Oh. Magic carpet." Soon, Arthur was pulling Ben into a debate: "Would you rather have penises for fingers or vaginas for ears?" While Ben laughed and then felt a bit queasy, Cameron leaned over to ask Robin a question in a hushed voice. "Did you break up?" Cameron asked. "How did you know?" replied Robin. "A guess. Are you ok?" Cameron asked, putting a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Yea, I'm ok. We're ok. We're going to be friends," Robin replied. Robin didn't want Ben to be all alone and Ben liked spending time with Cameron and Robin - it was reassuring to still be accepted. "It doesn't matter how big or small my fingers get, I'm not letting a vagina near my face," Ben said. "I'm going to put my fingers in my ears until this one is finished," Adam deadpanned. "You're going to put penises in your vaginas?" Arthur asked scandalously. "First time for everything," Robin whispered to Adam. Adam laughed and felt his eyes grow moist. Laughing. Happiness. Relief. Who knew he could still feel after... As they left the cafeteria, a few minutes before the end of lunch, Robin took the chance to speak to Adam alone at last. "Did you talk to your dad?" Robin asked. Adam dreaded talking about it, but he couldn't no-talk about it forever. "I told him everything. Not sure what he's going to do now," Adam admitted. Whatever his dad had planned, it was probably well under way as they left the cafeteria after eating lunch. Adam refused to reveal - to anyone but his dad - who the boy at school was. Who had violated him? Adam owed Micah nothing, but if his dad was going to deal with it as effectively as he suspected, Adam didn't want recriminations to continue from his friends. Adam wanted to accept what had happened, deal with it, move on... "Brave heart, Adam. You can do this," Robin assured him; offering a friendly nudge with his elbow. "Are you best buds with the poofs now?" asked Carlos who was walking in the opposite direction. "Not all of them," Adam replied offhandedly. Arthur smiled and shrugged at Carlos and then carried on in Adam's wake; he leaned over to Ben and Cameron and whispered: "Would you rather train a monkey to talk or train Carlos to stop talking?" Arthur asked. Cameron and Ben laughed out loud, leaving Carlos with the distinct impression he had just been made fun of. "I can't believe I used to be friends with him," Adam admitted; "I used to be just like him." "But you're not anymore," Robin reminded him. Adam went quiet and Robin had to resist holding his hand or publically comforting him. "The worst thing is being tired and wired awake at the same time. Laughing and then remembering you're meant to feel sad and broken," Adam said. The conversation had turned again and Robin felt like he could sense Adam's inner turmoil. "Sad people can laugh. Happy people can cry. There's no right way to deal with something like this, there's no wrong way... the important thing is that you do deal with it," Robin suggested. "I was going to hang out with Arthur tonight. And Shiro wants to meet Art but..." Adam shuffled awkwardly. "Do you want to come along?" "I'm working," Robin said and blushed at the admission. Robin tried to hide his disappointment at the mention of Shiro's name - Robin had to remind himself that Adam still had a boyfriend. A boyfriend he hadn't met. A boyfriend Adam wanted him to meet? "Why don't you come to The Fourth tonight?" Robin said. "And watch you... do what you do?" Adam asked. "I want you to remember that life goes on. That the world keeps spinning no matter what fucked up stuff happens. That no matter how bad it gets... boys still take their clothes off on stage for entertainment," Robin joked. "Ah, just like old times," Adam chuckled. "Maybe." LATER Adam had seen Micah leave the school at lunchtime and knew his dad's Jag parked out front but couldn't watch to see what happened next. He didn't want to know. When he got home after school, the house was quiet but his dad arrived back shortly after. "Should I be concerned?" Adam asked cautiously. "After the downfall of Micah Dinberg?" his dad replied; "I wouldn't worry about him." "I'm not worried about him," Adam admitted. "I have an angle on Mr Anonymous. But I need a bit more time," said Aziz; "Trust me, alright?" "I do," Adam replied and then to change the subject: "I was thinking I'd come to the club tonight? Is that ok?" "Of course," his dad replied. Aziz worried about how Adam was coping but knew too the difficulties of asking "are you ok" too much. There is a burden to be ok when someone keeps asking. Aziz wanted to tread carefully and support Adam however he needed. He wasn't sure The Fourth was the right choice but he had allowed Adam into the nightclub since he was sixteen years old - discreetly serving him drinks and allowing him to watch the stage shows and access the parlours. When Aziz had first encountered Robin and then persuaded him to work at The Fourth it was with a vain hope he could gravitate Adam and Robin together. That plan hadn't exactly worked out. Aziz began to wonder if his inkling had been wrong; when the boys were very young, Aziz had been sure they were soul mates. Aziz had grown up believing Allah breathed souls into people, but he didn't believe in souls anymore - what he did believe in was that two people could be right for one another. That is what he had thought of Adam and Robin. Until December, Adam had attended The Fourth almost every week. Now he could count on one hand the number of times he'd been in the nightclub in the last four months. Adam had stopped partly because Mr Anonymous' machinations - first Gymno-Mania and later Boy Appétit - taking up his time. Discovering Robin was Teen Titan had also affected Adam's comfort with the nightclub. Robin still masqueraded as Teen Titan - stripping and performing but Adam no longer felt able to watch the person whom he'd coveted. Adam got dressed, trying on three different shirts before settling on a grey shirt that he buttoned all the way to the collar. He had texted Shiro who was excited about the opportunity to get into the nightclub without getting bounced at the door. Inside, Adam got the drinks and brought them back to a booth that they had to themselves. "Your dad really owns this place?" asked Shiro. "Yea," Adam replied. "You're a man of few words tonight, is everything ok?" Shiro asked. Adam watched Shiro's excited face as he looked around the room - watching the dancing patrons and the boys on stage gyrating; the loud voices over loud music, laugher and kissing. Adam leaned over and kissed Shiro - he didn't want to talk. Adam wanted to try and switch off for a few hours, to forget his troubles. Most of all, he didn't want to tell yet another person what had happened to him; if Shiro didn't know, Adam was freed from the pity of at least one person. Shiro broke the kiss when his tongue got tired. "I'm going to need another drink," Shiro said with the relaxed smile of a boy who didn't drink much. "I think the bartender made doubles," Adam pointed out. "I think I needle another bubble," Shiro replied and Adam chose to find the tipsiness endearing. It wasn't what Adam had meant - he had meant they should slow down. Adam was saved from an immediate return to the bar by the arrival of star attractions on stage - Clyde and Toulouse. Adam hadn't seen either man for too long. He forgot how much he used to like Toulouse - the black Frenchman with gorgeous skin and a singular wit. Not to mention the big cock and the great sex they used to enjoy - before Adam only had eyes for Teen Titan. Shiro loved the performance. His eyes popping throughout the dance as more skin was exposed. Shiro moved closer to Adam as Clyde - the sweet Glasgow boy with the compact physique - and Toulouse pulled off their underwear. They made themselves hard on stage and Adam closed his eyes in recall of the times he had slipped Toulouse's big dick into his mouth. He could recall the salty-sweet taste now. Adam felt Shiro's hand on his thigh and his eyes flew open. In the back of his mind he knew Shiro would be turned on by the shows but he hadn't really given any thought to what he would do if Shiro got amorous. "I'll go get another drink," Adam said and slid out of the booth. While Adam waited for his drinks - Disaranno and diet coke - he contemplated how he actually felt about sex. Shiro's hand moving higher had sent a tingling sensation to all the right places but the thought of actually having sex made bile rise to his throat. Adam reminded himself he had legitimate reasons to be squeamish about sexual encounters. Adam headed back to Shiro just in time to watch Clyde and Toulouse - who were now dancing very close together - finish their act. The naked men were both hard and dancing face to face, cocks colliding in a dance of their own. Clyde turned away and proffered his ass - buttocks like white marshmallows - for Toulouse to grind into. Shiro had never seen an act like it and applauded with everyone else as the performers left the stage. "I thought they were going to fuck for a minute there," Shiro said. "Full sex on stage doesn't often happen. Sometimes they jerk off though," Adam told him. "Mmm, I'd like to jerk you off," Shiro admitted. Shiro dropped his hand onto Adam's crotch but a hand instantly stilled Shiro's advance. Adam leaned over and kissed Shiro softly on the lips. "I'm going through something just now," Adam said ambiguously. "Something good or something bad?" asked Shiro "I don't know but I'm figuring it out," Adam replied. Nothing about Mr Anonymous was settled yet and it weighed on Adam. "We've not spoken about what happened at Boy Appétit. Public sex is usually a one year anniversary thing, isn't it?" Shiro joked, then more seriously: "Is this about the blackmail stuff?" "It's nearly over now," Adam replied; "I don't want to talk about it anymore. You're safe from anymore public sex." "Ok... Let's take things slow until you've figured things out then," Shiro said agreeably. Adam was grateful for Shiro's understanding and then held his hand as the next performer arrived on stage. Teen Titan. The last time Adam had seen Teen Titan had been... A long time ago ...Adam sat forward in his seat as Teen Titan began to dance and then undress. Performers like Toulouse and Clyde wore masks that were usually discarded by the end of their performances; some, like Teen Titan, wore their masks throughout. The mask was part of their identity and performance. "Wow. He's... captivating," commented Shiro. Adam sat back in his seat and glanced at Shiro, fearing he had made his interest in Teen Titan too obvious by leaning forward but Shiro didn't seem to have noticed. As long as it had been since Adam had seen the Teen Titan mask, it was even longer since he had seen him naked. Robin. Teen Titan. Naked. Teen Titan paraded around the stage - showing himself to every corner of the room. Then he got hard - eight inches of cock exposed to the room and Adam felt his crotch grow tight. Adam was hard watching Robin's naked but masked body and Teen Titan was stroking very carefully. Teen Titan's job was to excite and entice the crowd. In the time that Adam had watched him, Teen Titan had never cum on stage; Adam wondered if, in the time he'd been away, Teen Titan now came to climax on stage. As Teen Titan moved to the centre of the stage, he began to jerk with purpose. He was totally naked, his skin shiny under the lights and utterly magnificent. Teen Titan, Robin, remained the most magnificent and beautiful man Adam had ever seen. Teen Titan continued to masturbate and the excitement of the crowd indicated to Adam that they were seeing something they'd never seen before. Was Robin doing this for Adam? Performing just for him? Adam remembered how he'd fallen for Teen Titan - his skin, his abs, his tight ass, his big cock. But it hadn't been just that. Teen Titan had been a confidant in the parlour, someone with whom Adam had explored intimacy rather than just sex. Adam had been drawn to Teen Titan's wit and warmth... Teen Titan came - shooting cum off the stage and squeezing his cock until cum oozed over his hand. The room erupted into applause and Teen Titan smiled - even with the mask one could tell he was smiling. It was in the shape of the mouth and in the eyes. Did Adam imagine Teen Titan looking right at him? Adam squeezed his own hard-on while he still had Teen Titan as eye candy and contemplated the rather complex feelings he had for Robin. Months ago they decided not to explore their intimacy further; they had planned to be friends and now Adam wondered if the feelings he'd had for Robin had just been forgotten for a little while. "He was the most beautiful man I've ever seen," Shiro said of Teen Titan as he left the stage. "Yea. You might be right," Adam agreed. Adam and Shiro spent a couple of hours together, finally chatting and laughing - playing would you rather - and unwinding. They were both tipsy but not drunk but the bartender - who had known Adam for over a year - cut them off before the clock had struck midnight. Adam called Shiro a taxi but lingered as its taillights receded. Shiro would have had Adam come with him but Adam still had things to do. Robin emerged from the backstage section, dressed for a spring night and hoping it wouldn't be too cold because he only had a light jacket. Robin saw Adam and approached. "I wondered if you'd like to share a taxi?" asked Adam. "Yea, ok," Robin replied. "I saw you watching me." "Everyone was watching you," Adam replied but he smiled knowingly. "You seem... relaxed," Robin said neutrally. "I am. I feel ok... right now..." Adam said because he knew that getting over something traumatic was like the surface of the ocean - sometimes calm and sometimes rough. Robin just took Adam's hand as they stepped out into the night and waited for another taxi. "Robin, I wondered if I could stay with you tonight?" Adam asked. "Sure," Robin replied casually, hardly seeming to think about it for even a second. When they got to Robin's flat, Adam asked him about it. "You didn't even hesitate," Adam said; "When I asked if I could stay with you?" "I said I'd be there for you. You said you needed a friend," Robin replied. Robin knew quite nicely that things were getting complicated between them - only a damn fool would deny it. It was why Ben had broken up with him and why Arthur had called him to comfort Adam. "Art stayed with me for a while. He cuddles like a pro," Adam said with a smile. Robin contemplated the visual of Adam and Arthur sleeping together (platonically). "But even straight best friends have their limits," Adam admitted. "I have no limits," Robin replied. Adam raised eyebrows at him but even Robin wasn't certain what he'd meant by his words. "I just mean you can cuddle as much as you like," Robin clarified and then headed for the bathroom; "I'll be back in a jiffy." A jiffy - thieves' cant for lightning. A jiffy - the time it takes light to travel one centimetre in a vacuum; 33.36 picoseconds. Robin re-emerged in a pair of loose shorts that showed off his lovely thighs and amazing calves - also, he was topless. Adam just looked at him for a few seconds of stunned silence then also said; "I'll be back in a jiffy." Adam slid past Robin - who smelled lovely - and closed the bathroom door so he could have a quick wank. Seeing Teen Titan again, Shiro calling Teen Titan the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, being close to Robin who was now shirtless, being alone with Robin in his flat... Adam stripped naked and sat on the toilet - with the lid down. His cock was hard and Adam felt a sense of delight to know he could get hard without feeling dirty, without feeling sullied by everything that had happened to him. His dick wasn't as big as Robin's had been on stage - at least an inch shorter - but it was on the big side of average. Adam closed his eyes as he stroked his dick, the firm muscle under his fist was warm and pulsing. Adam didn't want to touch his ass so he fondled his balls instead, rolling them in his hand and giving his scrotum a little tug. With his eyes closed, Adam could see Robin clearly. Adam's cock released a little ooze of pre-cum as he stroked so he used his thumb to spread the natural lubricant across the head of his cock. Adam kept stroking, thinking of Robin who was so close he could almost touch him. Except Adam still had a boyfriend and he didn't want to be the sort of boy who cheated. Hadn't he already, if only in his heart? Adam could feel an orgasm approaching in the inimitable fashion of teenage boys - horniness plus three minutes in private equals a happy moment. Adam shot his cum into some toilet paper and sat for another minute to enjoy the comedown. He flushed cum-sodden paper and pulled on his boxer-briefs. He was about to put on his t-shirt when he dropped that and left it on the floor. He unlocked the door and, still topless, headed for the bedroom. "Do you want me to tuck you in?" joked Robin, who was sitting on the edge of his double bed, legs just slightly apart and hands clasped in his lap. Shit he looked hot. Adam was glad he'd jerked off hopefully he wouldn't get hard when they spooned. "What about a bedtime story?" replied Adam. Robin's smile faltered and Adam wondered if he'd said something wrong. "I was reading something... It might help but I don't want you to feel..." Robin had to search for the words; "I don't want you to feel lectured." "I'm guessing you weren't reading Winnie the Pooh?" Adam chuckled softly. Robin stood up - Adam took in his height and the way his upper body rippled as he moved his arms and the way his shorts billowed out so that Adam could see the cock swing within them. Adam closed his eyes and urged himself to stop sexualising Robin. Not only did they both have boyfriends, Adam had not come to Robin's flat for anything but friendly company. He sat on Robin's bed. Without preamble, Robin lifted a book and opened it where he'd left a bookmark: "Having one's mother or father or past abuser admit to their crimes or even apologize for them changes nothing. Certainly not what they did. Rather, such an apology would give you the psychological permission to move on with your life. But you don't need anybody's permission to move on with your life." Robin paused, choked for a moment as he contemplated the abuse laid on him by his father and the violation Adam had suffered. So much pain. Robin continued: "It doesn't matter if those responsible for harming you ever understand what they did, care about what they did, or apologize for it... It does not matter... All that matters is your ability to stop fondling the experience with your brain. Which you can do... right now." Robin looked at Adam whose eyes were cast down. Robin put down the book and knelt in front of Adam, putting his hands on Adam's bare knees. "I don't know how you feel, Adam. What happened to you didn't happen to me. And what happened to me, with my dad, didn't happen to you. But we've both been through a lot and..." Robin stopped, wondering if he was making things worse. Adam tucked a hand under Robin's chin and lifted it so they were eye to eye; "And?" "And I'm not the boy who got beaten up by his dad. And you're not the boy who was raped," Robin said. It was hard for him to say without his voice weakening. "I know my life is more than that. Yours is more than what happened to you. I know," Adam replied. "I needed to move on. Even before my dad, I was trying to move on. I just don't know where I'm going yet," Robin said. "Me neither," Adam admitted. "I know." Instead of saying anything more, Adam slipped free of Robin's hands and tucked himself into bed instead. Robin turned off the light and then joined him, pressing himself close against Adam, his bare torso in intimate contact with Adam's bare back. Robin put an arm over Adam and they settled in the dark. "You might be slightly better at cuddling than Arthur," Adam admitted with a chuckle. Despite their close embrace, neither of them was hard - it wasn't that kind of embrace. "I broke up with Ben," Robin whispered. After a beat he added; "Technically, he broke up with me." Adam took a moment to turn and when he did, they were face to face; one of Robin's arms tucked under Adam's neck and one of Adam's arms draped over Robin's hip. "How come?" Adam whispered. "Because of you, Adam. Because I love you," Robin almost said but now as not the time. Instead, he actually said: "I don't know where I'm going but wherever it is, Ben can't come," Robin replied. "Sorry," Adam said. "Me too," Robin confessed. Adam closed his eyes and tucked his head under Robin's chin, his cheek against Robin's chest. "You're a wonderful man, Robin. Thank you," Adam said. "You're a wonderful person too, Adam," Robin replied. Then a beat later; "I mean, not as wonderful as me..." Adam laughed in Robin's arms. "So modest," Adam responded sleepily. They both stilled after that. Quiet in the dark. Still and warm. Comforted and companionable. "Goodnight, Adam," whispered Robin. Adam was already asleep. The excerpt read by Robin is from "This Is How" by Augusten Burroughs. Next week, Rhys will, quite deservedly, meet his match. Many thanks to all my correspondents for getting in touch, staying in touch or just saying hi. If you fancy emailing me: niftyencomiums@gmail.com If you love the stories Nifty has to offer, remember to donate: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Visit my blogspot - https://niftyencomiums.blogspot.com - for updates including chapter synopses and excerpts. If you are enjoying this story, I have also written: School Exhibitionism - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/school-exhibitionism The Symposium - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-symposium/ The Embarrassment of Riches - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-embarrassment-of-riches/